Molly x Jim
by Narnian-from-Gallifrey
Summary: This is an examination of Molly and Jim's actual relationship. We get bits of it on TV, but what were their three dates really like? How did Molly work up the courage to dump his butt? All shall be revealed.


Molly Hooper hit "SAVE", posting her new blog entry out onto the internet. It was then that she saw that she had written something naming Sherlock, instead of the usual "you-know-who". She immediately tried to fix the problem by deleting the post, but whether it was the exhaustion of working a string of night shifts, or the universe conspiring against her, she couldn't find the "DELETE" button. She could feel the panic rising inside and did the next best thing. She posted a comment telling everyone not to read the post above.

_I mean, it's not like anyone even read this thing, right?_ she thought as she grabbed the clipboard with the paperwork she was supposed to be doing. She had never had anyone comment on any of the posts before so there was no reason to think they would now.

And that's when she saw that there had been a new comment posted. Molly's eyes grew wide, hoping beyond hope that it was not Sherlock who had stumbled upon her most recent confession. She slowly scrolled down the page, not sure if she really wanted to see…

Oh. It was someone named Jim. _Hi, sorry, are you the lady who works in the morgue? The one with the nose?_

Molly wasn't entirely sure what to think. She knew she had never talked about anything to anyone named Jim before, much less her own facial features.

_Who are you?_ She commented back. Suddenly the morgue seemed much colder than usual and she was sure she could hear footsteps on the lino floor. Not the good kind of footsteps either, the creepy ones that you always hear in horror movies, right before the killer enters the scene.

Molly tried to continue with her paperwork, but the silence was getting way too creepy for her liking. The hum of the coolers filled with dead people, the single fluorescent light that was on only above her head… Normally she didn't mind working at night - she didn't have to worry about suddenly running into Sherlock around every corner and doing something silly.

Two minutes later, though it felt much longer, Jim replied. S_orry! I work in the IT dept. Stupid night shift._

This made Molly both relax and panic. It was someone who worked where she did, which was good. It most likely wasn't some kind of serial killer. However, he worked here. That meant he might even be friends with Sherlock…in the limited sense of friendship that applied to the consulting detective.

But still. He was talking to _her_. In a conversation that she hadn't started. Even though she was alone, Molly felt the familiar heat rising to her cheeks, colouring them pink. She had created a blog, yes, but she had never expected anyone to actually read it. She found that her hands were shaking.

She couldn't think straight. She found herself wildly wondering if Jim was cute. She thought that he probably was and that if he had started talking to her in a corridor during the day, she would probably stutter quite badly.

"Now, Molly Hooper, you calm yourself down. He's just a guy, right?" She knew she was mad for talking to herself, but it's not like the corpses would tell anyone. And it did help sometimes. "He's just a guy who's bored and who happened to find your blog. Just relax. You're talking online so he can't see you. Play it cool."

She tried. She honestly did, but as she was scrolling to the bottom of the page to comment, she saw that he had posted again. _Are you all right? You've gone quiet…_

He seemed to actually care. This was also something new. Generally, people didn't notice Molly. Not when she came into a room, or left it, unless it was Sherlock waiting for his coffee. Then again, that was the coffee he was noticing, not her. Yet, here was Jim who was paying her some attention, even if it was just over the internet.

_Sorry. I'm just feeling a bit silly. I didn't know anyone read my blog._ Her fingers paused over the keys. Then she remembered the comment about her nose. W_hat's wrong with my nose?_

His reply came back fairly quickly. _Nothing. It's a cute nose. I hope you don't mind me saying. I'm here all night so I need more coffee._

If Molly Hooper was bad at one thing, that one thing would be handling blatant flirting. Even as written words it threw her. What could she say in response? In the end, she settled for: _Okay._ Not the most eloquent, but at least it would let Jim know that she was still online.

_Do you like coffee?_ he asked her. She struggled, for a moment, to keep her face blank before realizing that he was way up on another floor of the building and he couldn't actually see her face. She smiled broadly and let the blush warm her cheeks.

_Yes._ She replied.

An even quicker response this time: _Would you like to meet for coffee? In the canteen?_

She felt the adrenaline rush through her body, chills sweeping down her back and nerves shot. She needed to get away from the computer for a bit. She went for a walk around the morgue - she should have done it already anyway - flipping on the lights as she went, making sure that the dead were where they were supposed to be and that everything was locked up properly.

When she had calmed down slightly, she typed out a quick reply. _Erm…okay. 5 minutes?_ She was going on an essentially blind date with a man she had never met but worked in the same building, in the middle of the night to the canteen for that horrible coffee. Molly hadn't done anything this exciting and intense since she had announced to her family that she did not want to be a librarian, but a doctor. Now that she was thinking about it, she realised that she should have offered to make Jim some instead, but she thought that she would probably jsut freak him out - making coffee in a room filled with dead bodies wasn't exactly everyone's _thing_.

Again with the quick reply. _See you there!_ She smiled and allowed herself the luxury of thinking that he had been nervously waiting for her reply. She set to work tidying up her papers into some sort of order for when she came back.


End file.
